The well-dressed young woman sitting across the desk from me tried her best to look relaxed, smiling as she accepted a light and leaned back in her chair. It was only the smallest tremor of her fingers that betrayed her, leaving a quiver in the smoke slowly curling up to the roof of the Perth Police Station.
“So what can I do for you, Detective?” she asked calmly. She had a cultured voice. A rich, warm tone of either a college education or a theatre actress, with only the faint hint of the gravelly Scottish background. The voice of someone eloquent. Someone used to spinning a tale.
Watch this one.
“Well, Ms Gilbraith, your name has come up in our investigation of the brothel Nera on Roe Street. Do you have any association with the, uh – inmates of this establishment?”
“Call me Eleanor, do,” smiled the brunette pleasantly. “As for the Nera, I’ve never worked there, as that’s what you’re asking, true enough. No, I’m an old friend of the Manager, Mrs Anne Sheppard.”
“How so?”
“Oh, I’m an author. I was going to write a story about, well, the business down in Roe Street, but Annie convinced me otherwise. Too many noses would be put out of joint, you see?”
My face was still, a trick learnt from long years on the job, but her smile teased the whispers from my memory.
Did you hear about Corporal Higgs? Caught drinking down at Madam Josie’s the other day.
Silly blighter. Doesn’t he know it gives that Frenchwoman leverage over ‘im?
Yeah. And he might find out too much about the Captain’s little information-sharing agreement with the Madams.
“How long have you lived in Perth, Ms Gilbraith?”
“Let’s see, around 1918? Just after the Great War finished, so that would be about six years ago now.”
“And you were recently known to be at Nera because-?”
Eleanor smiled and took a slow drag on her cigarette.
“Well, I think you already know, darling. Annie needed my help with a large amount of heroin found on the premises.”
My mouth refused to twitch but my eyes must have given it away. There was a little smirk, a tiny satisfied dimple in the corner of her mouth that silently cheered Oh? Did you think I was going to deny it?
“And why didn’t Mrs Sheppard or Madam Collins approach the police directly on this matter?”
My voice was a growl. Another mistake.
“Come now, Detective. I think we both already know the answer to that question. There are rules, you see. You think I don’t know?”
The brunette smiled again as she tapped some ash into the tray.
“No children. No male Bludgers. No drugs. In return, the police look the other way – officially, at least.”
Thankfully, my expression remained safely neutral, but the heat crawled relentlessly up the sides of my face. Eleanor held my gaze, letting the smoke waft up between us.
“Ms Gilbraith, I need to stress at this point that you are still considered a suspect in what may well be a major drug transaction. At this point you need to be completely truthful if you wish to avoid being charged as an accessory.”
My words were cold, relentless, and they succeeded in knocking the woman back in her chair. Eleanor took a short puff of her cigarette, letting it burn down a little further, then looked out the window.
“Very well, Detective. Here’s what happened. I visited the Nera yesterday after Annie called and asked me to come over. She sounded like she was in a bit of a state, and that worried me. Annie has always been the stoic sort – I mean you’d have to be, wouldn’t you? Madam Collins can swan about a bit, perhaps even entertain the illusion that the wealth from her brothels might still see her accepted into the Perth elite. Annie though? She’s there at the Nera, week after week, organizing the girls, seeing to the cleaners, balancing the books. To hear her almost in tears – well, darling, you can imagine my interest was piqued.”
“And how many inmates did Mrs Sheppard have working yesterday?”
“All in good time, Detective! Let a girl set the mood, hmm? I walked past the auto shops and tobacco factory at the end of Roe Street and into the cluster of little houses that serve as the easternmost end of the Red Light District. It was still mid-morning, so there wasn’t any punters lining up for the girls, although there were plenty of bottles underfoot. Annie still had Gertie out on the verandah; you never know, sometimes men will drop into the Nera between kissing their wife goodbye and sitting down to desk at work. Gertie is ravishing, darling – simply ravishing. Mid-twenties, blonde curls, pert lips – the sort of movie star allure that the Nera needs to bring in the dough. Poor thing must have been freezing wearing naught but a slip. Inside, Annie had Beatrice and Elizabeth sitting at the table in the waiting room. Neither of the girls had their ‘work gear’ on – it was somber clothes and long faces. Sitting on the table between them was a very large paper bag.”
“The heroin.”
“The heroin, yes,” nodded Eleanor. “They were terrified, poor dears. Beatrice – I haven’t told you about Beattie yet, have I? Beattie was an old hand, or as old as you can get in the business. Almost 30, two children. They don’t know, obviously. Matronly sort, good with young men who get a bit nervous in pubs and dance parties. Lizzie was another matter. I don’t know how old she was. The bottle takes years from you, see? She still had the body language, and she was certainly popular, but we could all see the lines on her face, the tell-tale shake in her hands.”
The woman paused, looking down at her cigarette slowly turning to ash.
“I don’t know if she was a drinker because of the work. Perhaps she was a worker because of the drink. Who knows? Anyway, we all sat around the bag of heroin, looking at it like it was a death sentence. Which it was, for the Nera least. The doctor was scheduled to check the girl’s licenses later that day –”
“The government does not issue licenses for prostitution.”
“Really, darling? You know the system, don’t you? The inmates get checked by the city’s Chief Medical Officer, once a fortnight, every fortnight – for a significant fee, of course. They get a certificate that they’re clear of the VD, which they hang at the end of their beds as proudly as a restaurateur displays their business license.”
That doesn’t – I mean, no, well…
“Madam, it does not amount to the same thing.”
My words were coolly professional, but the young woman raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow in wry disagreement.
“Anyway,” she continued. “Poor Annie was in a state. She had come across the heroin quite by accident, which was lucky for her. It could have been any number of suspects, you see? A rival Madam, a Bludger looking to take them down, a local business squeezing them out, or even a policeman looking to get rid of an uncomfortable relationship.”
My cheeks tingled, but there would be no rising to the bait. Not in front of this woman who seemed to be far too confident in herself.
“And how did the everyone react to this discovery, Ms Gilbraith?”
Eleanor shrugged, a strangely sinuous gesture as the cigarette smoke curled around her.
“Well, we were all scared, weren’t we? Annie was smoking her little black cigars. Gertie had come in and was smoking cheap sailor’s cigarettes. Beatrice had some expensive French brand, while Lizzie had a bottle and something between her lips that burned like old rubber.”
“So who brought the drugs in?”
The women’s eyes flashed, and she leaned forward with a hungry smile.
“Yes, that’s the question, isn’t it? That’s why Annie had invited me over. It couldn’t have been the cleaning staff – they only come once a week. All the girls claimed they had been seeing clients through the night, and Annie could back them up on that.”
The stubble scratched reassuringly under my fingers as they trailed over my chin.
“Then any one of them could have dropped it the night before, hoping it wouldn’t be found until the Doctor came calling.”
“Exactly, darling. It could have been any of them. Of course, they all started accusing each other, true enough. Take it from me, there are strong bonds between women in the trade, but they do fall away when survival is at stake. Gertie could have been paid off by a rival Madam who offered a better cut of the earnings. Beattie was getting too old for the business, especially as her children were beginning to ask questions. Dear Annie has had any number of disagreements with Madam Collins over the years, not to mention more than a few compromising relationships with various criminals and policemen.”
You’re not going to bait me, woman. You don’t know anything. You can’t prove anything.
“But it was Lizzie who was the obvious choice,” finished Eleanor. “Her alcoholism was apparent to all of us. A perfect way for a rival force to entice her to their side – or perhaps just because she knew her days as a vision of forbidden desire were well and truly coming to an end. So, we went to her room and checked the little tin underneath her bed.”
“What happened next?”
Another mistake; the words sounded too anxious.
“The tin was twice as full as it should have been,” replied Eleanor, her nose wrinkling as her voice dropped to a conspiratorial stage whisper.
“And was that when you called the police?”
“Not quite,” answered Eleanor slowly, turning away slightly and giving me an almost shy smile. “There was a lot at stake, emotions were high. You might say that there’s a certain amount of rough justice that’s meted out to those who threaten the girls, especially if it’s a betrayal by one of their own. They grabbed her and – well, that’s not important to you, I suppose.”
“So the drugs were planted by Elizabeth.”
“Not so fast, darling! Slow down, there’s plenty more to this story yet.”
My lips pursed. My expression melted back into a safe mask.
“It was a lot of heroin,” Eleanor continued. “That was the first mistake. A smaller amount and I could have believed Lizzie was using the dreadful stuff. But that bag? It was a serious haul, used for dealing out smaller doses. And Lizzie, as a dealer? The word ‘improbable’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
“Then who gave her the drugs?”
“Who indeed, Detective?” asked the young woman with a sultry smile.
Stay calm. Don’t show anything.
“That was the question that really intrigued me,” continued Eleanor. “But none of the larger suspects felt like the right fit. I mean, it could have been another Madam. Arguments occur, feelings get hurt – incidents happen. Madam Josie and Madam Collins smile at each other and talk shop, but deep down there’s only room for one woman to own Roe Street. However, one doesn’t rise to the top by being unwise, and a move that could turn the public on the entire Red Light District is most definitely unwise. These businesses exist because they’re needed, you see? Because a scale has been weighed, and the discomfort of admitting that need is preferable to what would happen if the brothels disappeared. But, place a large paper bag of heroin on those scales – and just watch how that balance tips! No, it would be far more likely for one of the other brothels outside of Roe Street to attempt such a trick.”
“There are no other brothels outside of Roe Street, Ms Gilbraith. The purpose-”
“Is to keep them all contained and controlled, I know, darling,” finished the young woman, taking a drag and watching the cigarette burn down a little more. “Except, of course, for all the other brothels that have existed quite comfortably in Perth for years and know not to make a fuss – like those lovely Japanese girls, what are they called again?”
“The Karayuki?”
The words were out of my mouth before my teeth could clamp down on them.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
“Yes, they’re the ones,” continued Eleanor airily, skimming over my admission. “Although there’s barely any left these days. Such beautiful women. So polite. So very charming. A far more likely suspect would be a Bludger. I think you and I would be in perfect agreement that they are the most vile brutes ever to slink through an alleyway. And it certainly would be their style to target poor Lizzie, trapped as she was in a bottle.”
“So it could have been a Bludger or Pimp that arranged for the heroin to be planted at the Nera?”
Eleanor looked down thoughtfully at the cigarette slowly turning to ash in the crook of her fingers.
“No, I don’t think so,” she replied. “If they had that amount of heroin, they simply would have sold it – or stuck it in their veins, the revolting fiends.”
My temper finally began to boil over.
“Then who was it then? Did Elizabeth confess to who gave her the drugs?”
Eleanor chucked.
“Good heavens, no, darling. She wasn’t the one that planted them.”
“What? Then who was it?”
“Calm down, Detective!” smiled Eleanor, placing her elbow on the table and leaning forward to whisper close in a way that would put a movie star to shame. “I can’t just tell you right out. Take it from me, darling, it’s like a good burlesque. It’s not about the reveal – it’s about the anticipation.”
“Ms Gilbraith…”
My voice carried a cold warning. The effect was probably lessened by a moment’s hesitation in leaning away.
“Oh, let a girl have a bit of fun, Detective, do!” laughed the young woman. “Anyway, as soon as I saw the money in the tin, I knew something was up. As I said, that amount of drugs was too large for Lizzie to handle, so it must have been someone else. A rival Madam would be unlikely to risk the entire street over taking down one brothel, and a Bludger wouldn’t have had the self control to carry it out. No, Detective, the vital clue had been there from the beginning.”
Don’t show it. Don’t show a thing. Focus. You’re a professional.
Eleanor looked down at the stub of her cigarette, giving a wry smile as she twisted it into the ashtray on the desk.
“It was the cigarettes, you see? Dear Annie could afford a cigar or two, but her girls all smoked brands that were cheap as could be. Except for Beattie.”
My face was a blank mask. The young woman held me in her gaze and continued.
“An expensive French brand? Far more than a common whore can afford, especially one who puts every spare dollar to her children. I thought that was off as soon as I saw it. Like I said, Beattie really was getting too old for the business – a girl has to think about her future, after all.”
“But what does cigarettes-”
“Have to do with the drugs? Who else wants to see the brothels out of Roe Street? Especially those right up next to their tobacco factory?”
The young woman paused, watching me in silence with a single arched brow.
My throat felt dry.
“So, ah, did Miss Beatrice deny this allegation?”
Eleanor cocked her head.
“Well of course she did, darling. At least at first. But then I suggested we check the tin under her bed. It was empty as a pauper’s pocket, despite her being with a number of clients the night before. She’d put it all in Lizzie’s cashbox to throw us off the scent.”
Despite my best efforts, my voice was barely a whisper.
“And what happened to Miss Beatrice after that?”
“Best we don’t talk about it, darling. But later on I did convince Annie to call the police and report the heroin.”
She knows.
God help me, she knows.
“Then, um, will you be requesting an investigation against the owners of the Roe Street tobacco factory for, ah-”
“For bribing a prostitute to turn on her employer by planting a large amount of heroin that would see the Nera shut down?” finished Eleanor brightly. “Good heavens, no. There’d be no point, would there?”
My hands were clenched and still, the tremors forced out of them.
“I mean, I know a little about the factory owner,” the young woman continued gently. “Stuffy sort. Good with business, but I doubt he’d have the first clue about how to obtain a large bag of highly illegal contraband. There’d be very few people in Perth who would be able to get their hands on that sort of thing, don’t you think?”
My lips tightened, and there was simply no reply.
“Now, darling,” continued the young woman, her voice a soft purr. “I think we both know that any rumors against the Roe Street tobacco factory should be discouraged, what with one thing and another. And I’m sure, all things considered, the police working the Red Light District would prefer not to close down the Nera.”
Damn you.
“Obviously the current situation is untenable,” came my shaky reply, although the words seemed spoken by someone else, far, far away. “Perhaps, with all things considered, the shutdown can be modified to a relocation order. Further down the street, closer to the other brothels.”
“And what kind of a location can Annie expect?” asked Eleanor.
My voice was a tight rasp.
“Best I can find.”
Eleanor got to her feet and smiled, a dazzling glow of someone who had just found a long-lost friend.
“Thank you, Detective, you’ve been ever so helpful! Ta-ta, darling, I do hope we run into each other again!”
The smoke still curled up silently from the ashtray as the young woman left the room.
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